Chapter 5

They were interrupted by the yapping of a dog, or perhaps a pack of dogs. The yapping quickly changed to deep-throated growls. "Ah hah! Cerberus! My puppy! Must have grown a bit by now. How glad he will be to see me once more" Zeus was exuberant.

His face was that of an eager child. Plainly a wave of nostalgia flooded his mind, and a wistful smile flitted across his face. "To return to the innocence of childhood. How wonderful it would be . . . . Here, boy! Come here!"

Demo shrank back!

The dog bounded toward them from a hidden cave. It rushed to Zeus, licked his hand with one of its heads, while a second head growled ominously at Demo. The third head maintained a continuous vigil.

"Pet him, he's quite gentle." Zeus smiled. "Good doggy, good doggy."

"Remember when I gave him to you, Zeus."

Startled, Demo and Zeus looked up. Their gaze encompassed the towering height of Megalith.

"Yes, I remember." Zeus smiled delightedly. "He was just a little bundle of fur. barely a handful, yet so warm, so loving. He came to me, climbed upon my lap and quickly fell asleep. A most wonderful present he was."

"Well," Zeus voice changed, and he ceased petting Cerberus. "So it is true. You have left Tartarus. You know, of course, that I can't permit it. I've already contacted the SkyHigh Elevator Company, and they'll be removing the elevator by the end of the month."

Megalith ignored the comment. "Your Mother Rhea sends you greeting, as does your Father Cronus. They want you to know they grow weary of the depths of Tartarus. They would breathe the air of earth, drink the nectar of Olympus. Lift your decree of banishment, Zeus. What manner of child are you, to so treat your aged parents! Remember you not, your happy childhood?"

For a moment Zeus stood silent, head bowed.

"You weave your words with delicate care, Megalith. I know it is not for my parents you seek these things. You, who were born in Tartarus, would have these worlds as your own. You would have the Gods of Olympus give obeisance, the children of man serve you."

Megalith reached down, patted the third head of Cerberus. The dog snapped at his hand, and he withdrew it quickly, scowled.

"You recall, Zeus, when you allowed me to visit Olympus, when I gave you the pup Cerberus?"

"I recall well. I was yet a child in many ways. Now, I have matured, Megalith. Gifts do not buy my favor."

"And do you recall I left with you, also, the jug of the best wine of Tantalus?"

"Good wine it was! A most amazing brew! To what purpose is your question?"

"You drank of the jug, and it brought you dreams of Hera, and of others. And even now those dreams return to tease your mind. The wines of Tantalus will return, time after time. Nor can you avoid them. Sleep now, Zeus, in a drunken stupor as the wine works its magic."

Megalith smiled.

Indeed Zeus stretched out on the greensward, Cerberus whining as he lay down beside him. A smile touched Zeus' lips.

"I have long planned my return. The wine of Tantalus was but the first step. Now, while he sleeps, I shall roam once more this earth, partake of its pleasures, prepare it for our coming. And you, earthling, shall be my emissary. We are well met!"

"I serve Zeus, no other."

"Well said. See this pebble. Watch carefully, then mind your tongue."

Megalith lifted a huge boulder in his right hand, looked at Demo with a smile, lifted it high above the head of the sleeping Zeus.

Quickly Demo notched an arrow.

Megalith laughed. "Dream on, Zeus, for the dream shall soon end. As for you, blunt your arrows if you will. In a moment I shall feed you to Cerberus."

The dog growled at mention of his name.

From the River Styx a form arose.

"Hold, Megalith!"

With a start Megalith gazed at the dark and menacing figure.

"You seduced my brother with your gifts, Megalith. I laughed, for your wiles were of no value against me. You find the fields of Tartarus confining. Lay down the stone then, and come with me. For I have prepared a place for you in Hades."

A chill encompassed Demo.

He dared not look at the speaker. This one projected all the aura of another he knew. Another who traveled with him, unseen, on sojourn after sojourn.

The unseen companion!

Though shaken Megalith was not deterred from h is intent.

"You have no power over me. And you have no reason to love Zeus, who banned you also to an inferior kingdom. Join me. We shall rule the earth, and even Olympus." Megalith smiled.

"True, I cannot harm you. I have no love for Zeus, as you say. Yet you have erred. For there is one who loves Zeus beyond all measure, and before that stone shall fall he shall tear your heart from that giant body."

Megalith's eyes widened.

Indeed such a one even now waited, ever alert, ever faithful.

Beside Zeus, awake and watchful, Cerberus stood. Baleful eyes, from each of his heads, glared at this creature who dared threaten his sleeping master.

With a deep growl he crouched.

Megalith stepped backward, in desperation launched the great stone downward.

It did not strike the helpless target. It's path was deflected.

The stone stuck not the hapless head of Zeus. For another bravely placed himself in harm's way.

The stone struck the third head of Cerberus, crushing and tearing. The dog moaned low, stood still over its helpless master, then lunged forward.

The battle was long. The deep growls of Cerberus mixed with the angry snarls of Megalith. The ground rocked under their fury, and blood and sweat mingled in an ugly stream.

They rolled on the ground, tearing and ripping each his enemy. The hills reverberated with the sound of their blows.

Megalith broke loose, rushed to the mountainside, seized a boulder even huger than before.

He turned to meet the onslaught of the dying beast, brought the stone down. Another head was crushed, and Cerberus staggered back.

Megalith once more picked up a massive rock. Quickly now he stepped around the dying dog, stood again over Zeus.

Demo launched his arrow. It fell, blunted, from the rough hide of the Titan. Megalith looked at the boy, smiled a scornful smile. He raised the stone high above his head.

Before the stone could fall Cerberus struck. Wounded and bleeding, still he launched his body at the Titan, knocked him from his feet. His fangs closed on the throat of Megalith.

Megalith seized the dog's neck in both hands, his powerful fingers cutting off the breath of life. The dog shuddered, yet released not its death grip on the Titan's throat.

In moments it was over.

The Titan lay dead!

And Cerberus.

No. Yet he moved.

Slowly, painfully he inched his tortured body to the side of the sleeping Zeus. He licked his master's hand, his tail wagging.

Closing his eyes he slept, to wake no more.

The silence was broken only by the call of a raven, flying high above. Even Styx flowed quietly, as though in dread. The stream reddened where the blood of giant, and of beast, mixed with its dark waters.

Demo knelt by the sleeping Zeus, touched him hesitantly with extended hand. "Sire, wake. The task is done."

Even as he spoke Zeus pulled himself erect, stroked the long white beard he favored for his earthly form. He blinked, looked at the motionless Megalith. With a sudden sob he held Cerberus to him.

"'Tis well I sent you not out alone. I fear he would have done you in neatly. That wine! I should have known! A devilish concoction, well brewed to twist the mind of even the Gods. And say you another interfered on my behalf, your unseen companion? Strange indeed." He shook his head. "If that one be whom I think there is little love lost between us."

"Have you ever owned a puppy, my boy. Wonderful! There is no creature so loving, so caring of his master. Cerberus, Cerberus, that you should die saving me." A tear trickled from his eye.

"Yes, child, for such loyalty even the Gods may weep."

For a moment Zeus sat quietly, Cerberus in his arms. A tear trickled from Demo's eye as he thought of Rough, and the many times the dog had protected him.

"I shall bury him at the base of yonder mountain. It shall serve as his headstone. Let all who look upon its majesty remember who sleeps at its foot." Zeus sighed.

"Well, well, it is over. And you, my boy. Well done. Well done. This sojourn I shall long remember. And though you are, shall we say, jumpy and at times overly eager I did indeed enjoy your company. So I may . . .

"Ah, listen, even now your Mother calls you. Is it fresh-cooked venison I smell? Yes, yes indeed. Excellent cook, your Mother. The berry pie that disappeared while cooling in the window . . . slightly tart, but oh so tasty, very tasty!"

Ceres walked sad of mien upon the earth.

Time past, the mighty Pluto had rode roughshod across the land. Had seized her daughter Persephone, carried her away to his damned kingdom.

Long since had she accepted her daughter's fate. Yet she remained forever disconsolate. At times she wept. No smile touched her lips. And in her mind a plan developed.

The wiles of women have oft changed the course of man's world. Even the Olympians would feel that power.

Carefully she gave thought to devices that would serve, to those who might champion her cause. Finally, in desperation, she turned to that power of powers.

White-faced, in dread, she prayed to Moira to unravel the evil that had been done.

Her humble cottage was quiet, still. The silence was such as she had never known. Even her breath was unheard.

In the silence she received her answer. Not in words, nor in thoughts, but in a strange vision.

She stood on a high peak, surrounded by rolling fog. In that fog she heard her daughter calling, but she could not tell from whence came the call.

She answered, yet knew her voice to be unheard.

Faintly, another voice sounded through the fog. The voice of a young man. "My lady, you are in pain. Can I help you?"

The vision faded, and she was once more in her little hut. She sat by her kitchen table, laid down her head, and cried.

There would be an end to the cursed imprisonment of her child! There was yet a champion who would stand against the fiend from Hades. In time the one who had wrought this grievous crime would suffer!

In her mind she saw darkly a deep cold tarn, its face hidden by fog and mist. She knew.

There, by the tarn, the tragedy would end.

7. The Curse of Cronus

"My dear, it is but reasonable. It is the curse of Cronus, that even the Gods shall age." He sighed.

"I have, in my infinite wisdom, ameliorated that curse to a degree. The aging process is slowed, and eons are only days. Still, aging continues. No, basically, it is not practical to completely counter the process. I've certainly given it careful thought. Do you think I enjoy it. Just look at me!"

Zeus frowned, paused in deep thought. Using his cane he limped slowly to his throne.

"You really shouldn't be so upset. Look at what it's doing to me? Zeus - with a cane? Ridiculous!"

"But, sire, would you but look at me! How can I stand the humiliation. Just look at me!" Venus stamped her foot in exasperation.

"Yes, my dear, I am looking. Oh, yes! Eh, to be honest, I can't even see a single wrinkle. Just a moment, let me put on my eyeballs." He adjusted his bifocals carefully on his nose.

"My dear, you look delectable. Wrinkles! Bah!"

"You jest. I saw it only this morning. Right here, on my forehead. Do examine me more closely."

Zeus pursued his examination with great gusto, until the entrance of Hera distracted him. Gruffly he growled, "Well, if a wrinkle is there, it is a beautiful one. Let me see? Ah, I have it. I shall send for expert advise. Rest assured, I'll solve the problem."

Hera watched suspiciously, finally spoke as Venus departed.

"What's that young snip want. You were certainly giving her a thorough perusal. Which, I might add, you were relishing mightily."

"The duties I must perform. They weigh on me heavily indeed, my dear. Venus has detected a wrinkle. Sad, but the curse of Cronus, you know."

With a suddenness that Demo had come to abhor he found himself once more before the might of Zeus.

Arrow notched, bow drawn, he had the game on the dinner plate - and then, whoosh, the forest, the buck, everything - disappeared. And now he stood before Zeus, his arrow still ready for its flight.

Zeus ducked precipitously behind his throne.

"Now, boy, now, now! Didn't mean to startle you. Eh, just release the arrow - No! I mean, just return your arrow to its quiver. There will be other bucks, I assure you."

Demo turned red, quickly returned the arrow to its pouch.

"My apologies, Sire. You called me at an awkward moment. No offense was intended."

"Delighted, really delighted, to have you here once more. I look back upon our last little adventure together with fond remembrance. Fond remembrance? I like that combination. I'll have to use it again sometime."

Demo waited quietly. Zeus rarely spent time in empty conversation. Though it might seem like prattle, somewhere hidden was meaning - and danger.

"Have I talked with you of Cronus? No, I think not. Well, Cronus bore a grudge against us - myself, the other Gods. Some, they say, get mad, others get even. Not Cronus - oh, no! Cronus get mad? Never! Cronus get even? Perish the thought!"

Zeus stalked back and forth before the throne. His face was turning red in exasperation, and sweat trickled from his brow.

Already the dark clouds were beginning to form above Olympus.

"Now you stop that!" Hera exclaimed. "And quit rambling! Do tell the poor boy of Cronus' monstrous gift to the Gods! And do get on with it!"

"Hmmm, yes, my dear. Where was I?" He wiped his brow.

"Cronus was furious. F . U . R . I . O . U . S!"

"The boy knows how to spell. Be a bit more concise, Zeus. You know, we have this garden party shortly. Quickly now!" Hera was petulant.

"Of course the boy knows how to spell. Eh, don't you, my lad?"

"Oh, yes, Sire! My mother taught me well. She says . . . "

"Another time, boy. Another time." Zeus brushed off his comments.

"He was furious. He had no intent to get even. No way! Even would never do. It was his wish to lay upon us troubles ten times greater than those he received. Even? Ha!"

"And so he did. The Curse of Cronus! Has a nice ring to it, don't you think. I remember well the ceremony. In deep sonorous tones he enunciated those very words - The Curse of Cronus - and then repeated it three times. Melodramatic type, he was. I could almost hear the deep swelling boom of a gong as he ended each pronouncement." He paused, seemed to be thinking.

"I've tried awfully hard, you know, to emulate that voice. Very impressive, really. Can't quiet hack it, though. Had something to do with his bearing, too." He stopped, looked at Hera and Demo, and blushed.

"Lift the curse, that's what I want from you. Now, be off and take care of it. I have a garden party to officiate, you know." He glanced placatingly at Hera. "Do be quick about it, for Venus is terribly peeved. Although I didn't see a single wrinkle. Lovely skin, lovely, . . . " He paused, noted Hera's angry glare. "Reminds me - to a lesser degree, of course - of Hera's beautifully smooth neck and shoulders."

Hera deigned to be placated. She smiled gracefully as she accepted his compliment. Yet, she had a knowing look in her eyes, and the boy noted how she shook her head.

Demo started to ask more questions, when he found himself, drawn bow in hand, once more in his hunting pose. He sighed, released the arrow.

Fresh venison, a new mission, and Cronus!

He cleaned the game carefully, working from habit without thinking. His mind was far away. The Curse of Cronus - I must lift the Curse of Cronus!

"Oh, yes, of course I know of Cronus," his mother appeared peeved. "I may be a country girl, but I want you to know, I am well read. Cronus was, of course, Zeus' old man. My, how they quarreled! Some thought Zeus would be banned. And well he might have been, if he hadn't moved first."

She sighed, added a touch of herbs to the soup. "Mmmmm," she commented. "It is tasty indeed. Not the ambrosia I'm sure Zeus serves, but quite tasty. Here, give me your bowl."

"There was a curse, mother?"

"Yes, that there was. Zeus drove them out - his father, Cronus; his mother, Rhea; all of the Titans. He stood by the wayside, lightning bolt ever ready." She paused, her eyes seeing a prior time, a time when the Gods were seen by man.

She filled the bowl with the warm soup, placed it before him. "Now try some of that. Cronus indeed. This will take the years off. And a slice of my bread."

She smiled as he began to eat, watched in pleasure as he attacked the food with the zeal of hungry youth.

"Cronus stumbled, and Zeus raised his arm to cast the thunderbolt. And then Cronus stood straight and tall and majestic. He repeated, three times I think, with his arms extended upward, 'The Curse of Cronus'. Doesn't it have such a melodramatic sound to it? Especially if you pause between the words." She once more intoned, "The Curse of Cronus", pausing dramatically between the individual words.

"And the curse, mother, what was it?"

"That the Gods, for whom 'til now time did not exist, would now - like other beings - age. Zeus laughed. Still, there are rumors, and I understand he laughs no more." She lowered her voice. "I'm told that, even now, he walks with a cane. Have you seen it? Can this be true?"

Demo ignored the questions. "Mother, how would I find Cronus?"

"My child, you do not find Cronus. He finds you. It is inevitable. It is from his touch that we pass from child to man or woman, from youth to middle age, from middle age to an elder estate. It is a process you would not desire to compress. No, search not for Cronus. He is not well met!"

Demo pondered her words, the story she had told. Fable, or fact? At one time he would have thought the former. Now he was completely unsure. His simple world had turned strange.

Demo began his trip, knowing not the way, knowing not the guise of him whom he sought. The fates were kind, and he found aid along the way.

"Earthling, attend me!"

The voice was soft, yet commanding.

He breathed deeply as he gazed upon her. The beauty of Athena, of Medusa, he had thought, could not be surpassed. He was wrong.

The diaphanous gown accentuated, rather than hid, the exquisite form of the maiden who addressed him. The face was beautiful not only in its own right, but in its every response to her thoughts. Now with a slight blush, now calm and serene, now smiling and happy - always with an innocence that beguiled and attracted.

"I am Venus. It is for my sake that Zeus has dispatched you on this dreadful sojourn. And dreadful must it be for you, for when Cronus looks upon you the bonds of time will lock you in their embrace. Yet there is no other way." She sobbed.

"Take this. When you tend Cronus, tell him from whence it came. Then ask him, must the beautiful blond hair of Venus turn gray. Once he loved me, a grandchild who was his pride. Perhaps he still remembers. Give to him this mirror, for in it he shall see my visage. And as I age, so shall indeed the image on which he gazes. It is his curse. Let him reap its reward."

She expected no reply, and was gone so swiftly none was possible.

He glanced at the mirror from the side of his eye. He blinked. Truly, it was not his own image, but hers. He carefully placed the mirror in his pouch. Perhaps, after all, Cronus would relent.

One might think that, to reach Tartarus, the path would be first through Hades. And having passed through that monstrous domain Tartarus would lie ahead.

Indeed, Tartarus lies far below even the inferior regions of Hades. Solitary, neighborless - there is no common border, no entry or exit. Tartarus stands alone. None may enter. None may leave. To those who live therein its bounds are endless. To those who dwell without it is but a speck, lacking depth, lacking width, lacking height.

Demo searched. He found not Tartarus. He found not Cronus. And so he slept. And as he slept, Cronus found him!

Each night he lay down to rest, tired from his travels. Each morning he awoke, unrested, the weight of passing years pressing down upon him. Yet, the sun had made its own journey, and it was but the start of a new day. He felt in his bones aches he had never known. The muscles that served well afore now weakened, gave way under exertion.

The dreams began. A white bearded patriarch, severe of mien, stood nightly at the foot of his bed, gestured over his prone body.

And with that gesture he felt his very bones grow tired. The smooth skin of youth wrinkled, and his sharp eyes dimmed and lost their luster.

"Return to Zeus. Tell him that the Curse of Cronus shall never be lifted. Give up this quest, for on it you shall age each day as though it were a year. Only the kindness of Cronus prevents you from withering and dying before the dawn." The deep sonorous voice ceased, the vision faded.

He touched his cheek, his forehead. Indeed wrinkles formed and furrows! Beneath his chin a dewlap hung. His eyes grew tired, and his voice weak. Nightmare, or visitation from Cronus?

By day his travels became ever more onerous. The pain of arthritis attacked his joints, his breath was short, and at times he wandered over his earlier trail unknowingly.

Demo noted, looking in the mirror of a calm pond, his thinning hair, now turning gray. Dark pockets formed under each eye, and his eyes were themselves bloodshot.

Perhaps, he thought, it is time to return home, there to rest. Perhaps, there to lie down to an eternal rest.

Each night Cronus came. Each day Demo was left with a body weakened and tired from the visit of Cronus.

His appearance had become so wretched that he avoided the quiet ponds, that he see not his image. In desperation he called on Zeus, then sighed. Even Zeus, mightiest of the Gods, labored under the Curse of Cronus.

On a certain day, in a certain glade he walked, knowing not where to turn. His thirst grew, and he noted water trickling down the hillside ahead. At the base of the hill a small spring formed a placid pool, and he leaned forward to drink of its water.

"Not me! Let it not be me!"

The gaunt, ancient creature reflected in the still waters screamed out the words.

He would turn away, and yet he could not. Fascinated he noted the wrinkled face, the gnarled hands, the tired eyes.

My youth, to have fled so quickly! The Curse of Cronus indeed!

Night shadows were fast enveloping the land. He cut soft limbs and foliage to make his bed. It mattered not. All beds to him were hard. Emptying his pouch he nearly dropped the mirror of Venus.

He caught it before it struck the ground. I need no more bad luck, the thought crossed his mind.

The image of Venus brought tears to his eyes. The beauty reflected in the mirror but days before had disappeared. Now was seen but an old crone, straggly hair, wrinkled face, bent back. Still the eyes tore at his soul.

The sad eyes that held remembrance of beauty beyond that of all beings. They seemed to say, "If I could but forget what once I was. Then I could more readily bear this plight."

He shuddered, held the mirror in his hand as he stretched out on his forest bower. Sleep would come soon. And with sleep, Cronus!

And so it was. Cronus stood silent at the foot of his sylvan bed. He held an object in his hand, gazed at it in deep thought.

The mirror of Venus!

He had taken it from the bed where Demo lay. Slowly Cronus lowered the mirrored, glanced at the boy. Demo stirred, looked with tired eyes at his visitor.

"I know this one from long ago. I see, yet I know not the face, nor the name. Is this your mother, boy?"

"No, sire, this is the face of another, the face of one you once loved. The face of one you have condemned to misery. This is the face of your granddaughter, Venus, disfigured by the Curse of Cronus."

Cronus' eyes widened, and he glanced once more at the mirror. "I shall take this with me. Sleep, boy, this night I give you rest."